


Dignity in Blood

by rage_quitter



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Fake AH Crew, M/M, Michael and Jeremy are Gavin's angry guard dogs, Nonbinary Character, minor Transphobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-16 00:12:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5805745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rage_quitter/pseuds/rage_quitter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gavin loves seeing their boys fighting in their name, especially when it's well deserved.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dignity in Blood

**Author's Note:**

> Gavin uses they/them pronouns in this.

 

The bar is noisy, crowded, hot, and smells like cheap cigarettes and beer. Poorly aged rock music is drowned by drunken chatter and clinking glasses. In a booth at the back of the bar, with a vantage point covering all exits, three people are sitting.

“So, okay, you get a million dollars-”

“We’re already millionaires.”

“Shut up, listen. You get a million dollars, but every time you take a piss, it glows green.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“You know when you break a glow stick and there’s that goop in there? That’s what your urine looks like.”

“Is that for the rest of my life?”

“Don’t encourage them, Jeremy.”

“Uh, for a year.”

“Fuck yeah, I’d do it. Glowy piss for a year for a free million dollars?”

Michael sighs. “You two are dumb.”

“Aw, Michael, you love me,” Gavin says with a teasing grin. Their fingers brush Michael’s jaw.

“You’re damn lucky I do,” he grumbles. He lifts his glass and gulps down the rest of his whiskey.

“Need another drink, love?” Gavin asks.

Michael shrugs.

Gavin rolls his eyes and turns to Jeremy. “What about you?”

“Could go for another beer, sure,” Jeremy says. “I can go get it.”

“Nah, I need to stretch my legs, I’ll get more bevs,” Gavin offers. “My treat.”

“Thanks, babe,” Jeremy says. He slides out of the booth to let Gavin get up. They grab Michael’s glass on the way out.

“I’ll be back in a minute,” they say cheerfully. “Try not to miss me too much.”

Jeremy’s already leaning against Michael’s chest. “I’m already in agony,” he jokes.

Gavin sticks out their tongue and turns to walk up to the bar. Their head is high and their kitten heels clicking on the hardwood floor. They’re far too overdressed for such a sleazy bar, but they pride themself on looking their best in skintight jeans and a button up with a few too many buttons popped.

Gavin leans over the counter on one elbow as they rattle off the order to the bored bartender. Their other hand cups their face, fingers resting gingerly on three days of stubble and cautious not to disturb their lovingly applied makeup.

“Hey, buddy.”

Gavin turns their head. “Me?”

“Yeah.” The guy is beefy looking and has a scar on his face. Gavin mentally places him in a small gang. He’s sneering. “You’re a little dressed up for a place like this.”

“Is it any business of yours?” Gavin asks smoothly.

The guy scoffs. “The drag bar is down the street.”

“I’ll take that into consideration.” Boredom and sarcasm color their tone. “Thank you for your opinion.”

The guy mutters something under his breath and turns back to his beer.

The bartender returns with Gavin’s drinks. They thank him sweetly and place a fifty on the table. “Keep the change, love,” they say with a purr.

Gavin keeps their expression perfectly casual as they return to the booth and set the drinks down. They slide into the booth and sit on Jeremy’s lap with one leg hooking around Michael’s. Jeremy’s hand comes to rest on their hip.

“Thanks, Gavvy,” Michael says. He drops a chaste kiss to Gavin’s nose, making them scrunch up with a smile.

The three are quiet for a moment.

“Hey…” Gavin starts. “So… while I was getting the drinks, some bloke said some gross stuff to me.”

Both of the others two stiffen. Jeremy sets down his beer and pulls Gavin closer to his chest. “Who was it?” he asks.

Gavin points a navy painted fingernail towards the man. “Bloody nasty transphobic prick,” he says. “His whole gang is here, too.”

Michael narrows his eyes. “Gang?”

Gavin nods. “See his tattoo? There’s a few others of ‘em in here.” Their eyes scan the bar. “Six, unless there are any in the bathroom or outside.”

Jeremy and Michael share a look. “Gav, babe, watch our drinks,” Jeremy says. He presses a kiss to Gavin’s jaw before sliding from the booth. Michael slips out the other side, brass glinting on his knuckles.

Gavin stirs their cocktail with a growing grin.

Jeremy sits down at the bar beside the man. Gavin watches as Michael takes a seat on the man’s other side and counts silently.

Jeremy says something that Gavin can’t hear. The man stiffens and rage flickers across across his face. He turns.

His face meets Jeremy’s fist before he can speak.

Shouts erupt from the patrons. The man is reeling, blood dripping from his nose. Jeremy flicks it from his knuckles.

The man starts to reach for Jeremy, but he’s ducking under his arms and skipping back on his feet. Gavin can see a flicker of a grin on Jeremy’s face and sighs dreamily.

The man scrambles to his feet. Michael’s sitting unfazed, watching carefully, waiting, calculating. His fingers clench and unclench. Gavin does love seeing the brass knuckles shining on his pale skin.

The man looks a little uncertain now. He’s a foot taller than Jeremy and just as broad. Jeremy lifts his face and smirks. Gavin feels a little shiver.

The man scowls. Gavin taps their fingernails on the table.

He throws a punch. Jeremy’s on the other side of his arm. Another, and Jeremy is a step back.

The man throws a look to his buddies. Gavin can imagine the look on Michael’s face.

Another man approaches Jeremy.

Michael’s got a fist in his face. Blood sprays out.

“Fuck you,” Michael spits, jumping off the barstool. Blood tints his weapons. His expression is dangerous.

The other patrons are staring in shock and anticipation as the gang rises and approaches with anger clear on their faces. The bartender is eyeing the phone.

Jeremy and Michael are side stepping slowly, moving closer together.

“You two and your little bitch are gonna get your fuckin’ asses beat in,” Gavin hears the first man say.

They shake their head. “Oh, you stupid idiot,” they murmur.

He’s doubled over with Jeremy’s heel planted in his gut as soon as he starts to lunge. Michael whirls around and he’s a fury of fists. A man lets out a shriek as the brass knuckles rip off flesh. Jeremy’s untouchable. His knee bursts a guy’s nose and he cracks another man in the spine with his elbow.

Gavin watches as Michael takes a hit to the ribs and lets out an angry shout. He closes his fingers around the throat of the guy who hit him and knees him in the groin. His fingers are tight on the man’s windpipe before he slams him roughly into another guy and both stumble into a table.

Gavin almost cringes when they hear the unmistakeable cracking sound of a kneecap being snapped when Jeremy dodges a punch and kicks at the leg of the assailant. He drops to the floor with a wail and Jeremy gives him a solid kick to the ribs.

The bar is shouting and jeering, rooting on sides.

Michael grabs the arm of one of them and pulls hard, kicking out into his chest. His shriek is music to Gavin’s ears as Michael bruises his ribs and dislocates his arm. Then he’s shoving him on the ground and lashing out with forceful punches.

Gavin’s watching their boys moving in tandem, their bodies perfectly in tune. It’s a brutal dance and Gavin thinks Jeremy’s face looks very nice spattered with red. Michael’s clearly enjoying himself, as well.

A hand wraps around Gavin’s mouth and an arm around their waist. “You’re coming with me,” a voice hisses in their ear.

Silver flashes from Gavin’s wrist. Their knife plunges into flesh.

Gavin slithers away from the man as he chokes on blood around the blade in his throat. It’s the first guy. Gavin grimaces. “Had to ruin my damn fun, you bastard,” they grumble. Ringed fingers remove the knife.

Gavin looks over to see Michael and Jeremy back to back now. They huff. “Ay, lads, I want to go home,” they call over.

They don’t even bat their eyes before straightening up. There’s a moment of confusion. Michael pounces on a guy and Jeremy’s pulling a pistol from his coat. There are screams as Jeremy shoots him in the face.

Michael’s shot takes out another guy’s knee. “Anyone else got any smart comments before we’re gone? You transphobic fuckers? I’ll shove this gun so far up your ass you’ll taste gunpowder,” he threatened.

Jeremy goes to Gavin and frowns at the bloody knife in their hand. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m all right. He’s not.” Gavin scoffs at what’s now the corpse of the gang member.

Michael wipes blood from his nose and turns to the nervous bartender. He fishes through his wallet and drops a few hundreds on the counter. “Sorry about the mess, dude. Get some better customers.” He turns on his heel, finger tapping the trigger guard. “Come on,” he says.

Gavin leads them out of the bar without a second glance to anyone in the building. “Thank you,” they say softly once they’re outside.

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” Michael murmurs. “No one’s gonna live to say shit about you while we’re around.” He nudges Jeremy.

“They deserved every hit,” Jeremy agrees.

Gavin loops an arm around each of them. “You’re the best,” they say. “Let’s get home before we start any more fights.”

Jeremy rolls his eyes. “Like you don’t love it,” he teases.

“Well, when my lovely boys are just so damn good at what they do, who am I to deny them?” Gavin purrs.

“Wanna know what else we’re good at?” Michael gives Jeremy a grin.

Gavin’s smile is suggestive. “Oh, I’ll love to see.”


End file.
